


Paper Isn't the Only Thing That Burns

by Hoodedscarlet



Series: lace my veins (im broken anyway) [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Depression, M/M, Multi, Self-Harm, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Stalking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-31
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 08:04:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2540432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hoodedscarlet/pseuds/Hoodedscarlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael exists in a world where the person you're fated to be with is etched into your wrist from a young age, their name revealed to you on your sixteen birthday. For most, this is a time of celebration, one step closer to the man or woman that will make your life complete. But Michael never agreed with that notion. A freak from the word go with marks on both wrists, Michael could never see the perfect happily ever after that so many could, and with nowhere else to go he ran. Now, settled with the men he loves, he can finally rest and forget about the people that mar his wrists.</p><p>Or can he?</p><p>(Offshoot from Ink Isnt The Only Thing That Bleeds - mostly set after Michael meets the rest of the boys and they move in, but before the end of the story.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paper Isn't the Only Thing That Burns

Sometimes, Geoff would drink.  
  
As with most things, there was a difference in the infliction on the word; of course Geoff would drink, go and get smashed with Gus and Burnie, maybe even grab a drink with Jack or Ryan if they were in the mood and if Ryan was willing to deal with drinking Coke all evening – although those times rarely saw Geoff off his face. As was to be expected, when out with his boyfriends Geoff tended to err on the side of caution, swapping out beer for the occasional water, eating between drinks and if he would get drunk it was the sort of tipsiness that came with a good night out - an easier smile, a more boisterous laugh and sometimes even hands that wandered just a bit too much. (Much to Ryan's amusement; Geoff had lost count of how many times they'd ended up in bed after those nights out after Geoff had stressed to his boyfriend that yes, he was completely fine with doing the horizontal tango when he'd had a few.)  
But there was a difference when Geoff would drink with friends and when Geoff would _drink;_ when the buzzing of worry and doubt in his head would become an all-encompassing cloud that drowned out his thoughts and made his muscles go lax when demons encroached upon him. Drinking until his memories fell apart and there wasn’t enough glue to make any more stick; when his mind was a clean slate and nothing could stick.  
  
That was when his cuffs would come off.  
  
Geoff, the man who was venomously against the ideas and morals that came with soul mates, who swore out their names at any opportunity he got. When he had sunk this far he would oh so very carefully pull away the steel like wrapping paper  to expose skin several shades lighter than it should be. One, two would fall onto the side table to leave Geoff rubbing his wrists like an escaped convict; in a way he kind of was. And once the theatrics were done Geoff’s fingers would trail away slowly, oh so very slowly to reveal the names written in neat black ink around his wrists.  
  
 _Michael Vincent Jones_  
  
The theatrics were tradition at this point – he knew the first time he'd done it he'd been shaking like a leaf and he hadn't been sure whether he did because of nerves or the alcohol thick blood in his veins. But now it was habit at this point, the reveal. It wasn't like he didn't know just how much to drink to blank his mind now anyway. And sure, his liver probably hated him now but the words burned under his cuffs and the only thing worse than ‘indulging’ in this behavior was suffering through it.  
  
 _Gavin David Free_  
  
But even despite himself he couldn’t deny the _fondness_ that overcame him as he whispered each of his soul mates names out loud, the names rolling off his tongue like butter, like song, like the ocean off the rocks to coat his teeth in salt to make his mouth pucker. And pucker it did; because while he could never remember this in the days to follow he couldn’t quite forget what had come before and the thoughts of lives ripping themselves apart around him would stew in his mind. But even they couldn’t sour the joy that came from satisfying the metaphorical cat – perhaps that was why that first time had never been enough. Perhaps that was why he would crave these nights where it was just him, his cuffs and a stiff drink or ten, as he’d read the names on his wrists like poetry and let a mouth clumsy with booze learn their rhythm.  
  
Ray Narvaez Jr  
  
Some of the names were unfamiliar, and he spoke carefully, sounding out the syllables as if learning a foreign language or the name of a beautiful woman. Others he spoke quickly with an almost alarming familiarity to them, and he swore if he thought harder about it he would know who it was, could piece together the face from loose pages of thought. But he didn’t think harder, didn’t think at all as he let each name fall from his lip like a prayer. Or a curse. He wasn’t quite sure which anymore.

_Jack Shannon Pattillo_

He didn’t think about what the consequences could be, didn’t think that by doing this maybe he was validating soul mates more than he would like. But how could he truly ignore the names stained onto his wrists? How could he ignore the people he knew were behind those words? He would never hold them, never kiss them like he would others but they existed all the same.  
He wondered if they would hate him for knowing what he was doing.  
  
 _James Ryan Haywood_  
  
He wondered if they cared he would never even give them the time of day.  
  
(They were his supposed other halves, with his name on his wrists and he was made just for then; if he wasn’t to be around where would they be left?)  
  
-x-  
  
“Jack called just before.”  
  
“Oh?” Geoff said, pausing his game of Peggle before looking over to his boyfriend. He didn’t kick down his feet from the coffee table, which was littered with plates and chip packets. He could already see said boyfriend rolling his eyes at the sight; between him and Jack the house was always neat and so what if he got too immersed in a game to think about things like rubbish? He gave a quick apologetic smile before continuing. “What did he say?”  
  
“He’s probably about a day away from home. Give or take a bit but nothing too extravagant.” Ryan replied, leaning against the kitchen bench. His hair was swept away from his face, flour dusting his cheeks and the leather of his cuffs. While they definitely ate a lot more takeout than the average household between the three of them they still managed to have a pretty healthy diet by taking to the kitchen a few times a week each. If the smell was anything to go by, Ryan was making macaroni cheese with added bacon (mainly for Jack’s sake when he came back and inadvertently ate the two day old leftovers, although they all loved it.) “He said he’s got a kid with him too, a Michael or something. Says he found him in the middle of nowhere with about ten bucks to his name and no idea what he’s doing.”  
  
“Sounds like a stupid as dicks move.” Geoff said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well considering the kid’s taken a few weeks just to un-clam, Jack’s pretty sure there’s something going on there which validates it.” Ryan replied. “He’s already tried to gun it once, so I don’t think he ended up so far from home for a trivial reason.”  
  
“You’re quick to defend somebody you haven’t met.”  
  
“And you’re quick to judge, so we’re even.” Ryan retorted. “Plus, Jack seems a bit smitten with the guy – we should probably give him a chance. He’s got cuffs on and everything.”  
  
“I’ll have to see it to believe it.” Geoff said, folding his arms stubbornly.  
  
“God damn Geoff.” Ryan said, shaking his head as he laughed. “I’m not sure whether to be flattered or worried.”  
  
“Can you really blame me for being protective over you two?” Geoff said.  “Especially after what’s happened to you?” Ryan swallowed, throat suddenly dry as he shook his head.

Memories began to flicker into his mind, of the woman that wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer, that couldn’t understand that the ‘Ryan Haywood’ tattooed onto her wrist was not the ‘James Ryan Haywood’ standing before her. Couldn’t seem to understand that really, that name wasn’t his and could she please stop following him? And there was no way to prove it because like hell he was taking off his cuffs and she seemed convinced that if he just gave her a chance he would fall madly in love. It had started out manageable at first, the occasional vase of flowers or chocolates that made Ryan feel ill, but it had gotten worse. Fingers had wandered too close, words became more crude, suspicious cars following him to work and it got to a point where Ryan couldn’t even walk outside, swore he could see the car back up down the street and just the thought made him shake and bile rise in his throat because he had the arms of a god and a wit to match but the blatant invasion of his privacy… He didn’t know what to _do_.  
  
It hadn’t been until Geoff had lured her out that she had seemed to get the message. Shoving her up against a wall by her throat, Geoff’s blue eyes had been disturbingly cold as he calmly said to leave his boyfriend the fuck alone as his palm pressed against her windpipe. Told her as she squirmed and the colour drained from her face that he was off the table, not hers and Ryan had never seen somebody scramble off with their tail between their legs so quickly.  
   
(It had taken him a few weeks after that to recover, weeks of fingers winding tighter within his love’s and nights far more affected by insomnia than he would have liked because there was something so _emasculating_ about the whole situation, not being able to escape the downward spiral in his head and not for the first time he was glad his boys were _his_ ).  
  
“I guess not.” He said quietly, gaze dropping a little. At his tone dropping Geoff’s face softened, the tips of his mustache curling up.  
  
“You two mean the world to me.” Geoff said sincerely. “Soul mates be fucked, we’re supposed to be together and the last thing I want is somebody driving us apart like that you know? It was really fucked up to watch that Ryan, I don’t know if you understand that.”  
  
“I’ve got a pretty good idea.”  
  
“Hopefully it stays an idea and you don’t have to find out how that feels for yourself.” Geoff said, gesturing with his arm over to the couch. With the macaroni cheese ready to slip into the oven, Ryan didn’t have a reason to decline him and he slipped into the embrace happily, musk and wood and the faint smell of whisky filling his senses and he wrapped his arms around Geoff as well. He could see Geoff’s features relaxing in the embrace as well – Ryan wondered whether he was the only one who needed a bit of comfort after dragging up those memories.  
  
“You want to play?”  
  
“Nah, I’m good.” Ryan said, closing his eyes. He felt Geoff shift to pick up the controller, the game music starting up a moment later. “Just going to lie here for a bit.” Geoff just hummed in approval, the game chirping in approval as he got another combo.  
  
“Love you.”  
  
“Love you too.”  
  
-x-  
  
Michael had been a surprise, to say the least.  
  
When Jack had arrived home, Geoff had completely forgotten the man was even coming, too absorbed in the feel of one of the closest people in the world to him once again in his arms with his beard scratching at his neck. Fuck, this had been one of the longest deliveries Jack had ever been on and while Ryan was amazing and lovely and perfect the bed had felt far too empty without the red head beside him and he had muttered as much into the man ear.  
  
But they pulled apart and there he was, wearing clothes that seemed to swamp his frame and bandannas tied tightly against his wrists. He wanted to say the boy looked like he had been plucked from the side of the road but that had literally been the case – and he didn’t know what to make of the first thought he had being _he’s actually kind of cute._  
  
He’d confronted the man with the aggressiveness that the situation required – what he hadn’t expected was the way the young man fought back with a heat to his argument that caught him considerably off guard. Not to mention there seemed to be actual concern for Jack mixed in with his argument and that struck a chord with Geoff. A very good chord, actually, and he couldn’t help but let his anger slip as quickly as it came as they sat down to dinner. After all, it was only a front to protect the men he loved.  
  
And as two became three, and three became four, five Geoff couldn’t help but feel the pieces slipping together, fitting into place perfectly and he was _happy._  
  
-x-  
  
“Hey Geoff, how do you like your eggs?”  
  
“What day is it today?”  
  
“Sunday?”  
  
“How much salt is there left?”  
  
“Uh… Like quarter of the bottle?”  
  
“Any baked beans in the cupboard?”  
  
“Just give me a fucking answer Geoff!”  
  
“Poached then.” Geoff said, leaning over the bench as he watched Michael move around the kitchen. His eyes were hooded – Michael couldn’t quite tell whether he was being watched and admired or the Gent was simply deep in thought. He didn’t let himself think too much on the subject, instead focusing on not breaking the yolks as he broke each of Geoff’s egg into the simmering water to sit beside his own which he had only cracked moments before. Two each, of course – they were hungry and while it was a lazy Sunday Michael wasn’t _that_ lazy.  
  
“Did you really need to know all that to decide?”  
  
“Nah.” Geoff said, eyes twinkling. “Just wanted to see how much you cared about little ol' me.”  
  
“You’re a fucking shit.” Michael said, rolling his eyes and laughing.  
  
“And you’re stupid as dicks but I love you anyway.” Geoff retorted, and while it was far from the first time he’d said it still made something fond flutter in his chest. The months that had passed had been nothing but bliss; of course that was easy to say compared to what he had been putting up with previously but the statement was far from untrue either – he loved all his boyfriends dearly and there was something to be said about not fearing the times that somebody sat down in the house to drink, or addressed him, or even looked at him funny like he had before. The four of them were out doing various chores this particular morning, leaving Geoff and Michael to their own devices.  
  
“You too, you sap.” Michael said, putting some bread in the toaster. He was expecting a witty remark from Geoff in response but the man didn’t deliver; instead he just continued to stare. His brow was furrowed just so, as if contemplating something.  
  
“You see something you like?”  
  
“Always.” Geoff replied, a smile flashing on his face before disappearing again. “Look, Michael, can I ask you something?”  
  
“Sure, anything.” Michael replied, leaning on the bench as well. Geoff’s fingers skimmed over his hand, and without thinking he took it in his own and squeezed. Michael hadn’t expected any of his lovers to be so tactile – Geoff was less so than the others, but he was still quick to wrestle with Gavin or pull Michael in close to him if they were sitting on the couch together.  
  
“You know… Well, do you mind me asking why you wear those?” Geoff gestured to his wrists, to the faded bandannas fraying at the ends and suddenly Michael could feel himself freezing up under Geoff’s touch, memories crashing into him like a wave and pulled away his hand. He tugged on the bandannas on his wrists nervously, as if trying to subconsciously cover the discoloured scarring there. “I don’t mind if you don’t want to talk about it.” Geoff added quickly, about to go on if Michael hadn’t stopped him first.  
  
“No, it’s fine really.” Michael said, shaking his head. “It’s just been a really long time since I’ve had to think about- put it into words.” Michael said, correcting himself in the middle of his sentence because sometimes even now he couldn’t escape the thoughts  
  
“It just… Never sat right with me you know?” Michael said. “I mean everybody growing up would be sitting around talking about how cute their soul mate was going to be, what their name was going to be, what they’d be like and I just felt so… detached, you know? Like, it was a big deal sure, but everybody acted like the whole point in life was to find this one fucking person like nothing else mattered. I mean, I’m talking to the fucking expert on this but you know.” Geoff nodded, gesturing for him to continue and it struck Michael just how strangely comfortable he was talking about the subject. It wasn’t like he was completely unbothered – far from that – but there was just something about the situation, the intimacy that made lying out his secrets somehow… Easier.  
  
“Not to mention that I had my parents kicking my ass into gear the whole time. Literally.” He added quietly, not missing the way that Geoff’s shoulders stiffened. Michael only laughed, a brief bark that had no humour behind it. “They didn’t even try to see, I mean their relationship was so perfect why would they want to? All the fighting and drinking and, and _abuse_ ” and he stumbled and spat the word like it was bile in his mouth “it was just the perfect fucking picture of a happy family wasn’t it? Of course your soul mate is _supposed_ to be covered in bruises, your kid is _supposed_ to not know whether he prefers being called useless by other kids or his _parents_. Of fucking _course.”_  He slammed the table with his fists, and neither of them were quite sure whether he was shaking because of the anger or the remnant fear.  
  
“How are I supposed to see soul mates as _pure_ and _beautiful_ when that’s the sort of family I grew up in?” Michael said, eyes downcast as his voice finally trailed off. “My parents cared more about the next bottle than me.”  
  
It took Michael by surprise when he felt strong arms wrap around him, the metal of Geoff’s cuffs cool against his stomach where his shirt had ridden up. But Michael couldn’t care less, leaned back into the comforting touch of his boyfriend and savored the contact, the outpouring affection that came from the man he loved.  
  
“I’m so sorry.” Michael just nodded stiffly, trying to ignore the figures in his mind’s eye. He wondered if Geoff had made the connection between his skittish attitude and his past before. “I don’t know how it happens like that Michael but that’s just not fucking fair.”

“When you spend every day trying to make sure you haven’t done anything you can get told off for you don’t have much of a childhood.” Michael murmured into Geoff’s shoulder.  
  
“And that’s just fucking wrong.”  
  
The tender moment was interrupted by the egg time going off though, and with a soft peck to Geoff’s cheek he moved off to dish their food. Toast onto the plate, butter, eggs, systematically, robotically, trying to block out the ringing in his head. But when Geoff came over to take his plate he just smiled before leaning in and kissing Michael. His lips were rough but the kiss was soft, and Michael could feel his mind go quiet as he returned the gesture, arms coming up to wind around Geoff’s neck.  
  
“Have I ever explained why I don’t?”  
  
Michael shook his head, looking quizzically at Geoff. The red head didn’t miss the weight of the offer  either – out of all of them Geoff was the most venomously against soul mates, almost irrationally so, and as he gestured to the couch Michael trotted after him, sitting beside him close enough to feel his body heat.  
  
“My father, he worked in the blood industry.” He said, eating some egg and toast before continuing. “He met my mom through it, he worked there for basically his entire life from bottling and sorting the blood to actually working in the offices. We weren’t unhappy either.” Geoff paused for a minute, as if contemplating how to approach the next part.  
  
“But the further my dad climbed in the industry, the more he talked about the logistics behind the industry and its just fucking _sick.”_ He shook his head, a sour look on his face. “Michael, do you remember anybody when you were younger that didn’t have the ink smudges ?” Michael thought for a moment – he didn’t need long to remember the girl with the copper hair and big teeth who he’d had in one of his elementary classes. He’d heard the grownups talk about some reason as to why but the fact of the matter was that her wrists were as bare as the day she was born.  
She had hated it.  
  
Children can be marvellously darling and incredibly cruel and that was an example of the later, as the other kids in his class turned on the obvious, oblivious scapegoat. She was abnormal, creepy, a _freak_ and Michael had walked in on her a few times trying to smudge marker into her skin just to fit in for even five seconds. Michael could relate – he’d told her in hushed voices that he wished he could give her one of his - she’s smiled her toothy smile and said she’d like that a lot.  
  
“Kids like that are bullied. It doesn’t matter where they are or how much TV they watch or how they have their eggs they’re always going to find somebody that’s _odd._ And when people started figuring out they could do that with soul mates, well it was only a matter of time.” Geoff shook his head, suddenly looking his age, his breakfast forgotten as he riled himself up. “We were never supposed to know so early. So many people fuck up their lives because they try to find their soul mate too early, and you know what? There’s a reason that people weren’t supposed to find out as soon as they turned fucking sixteen. I mean I don’t see what’s romantic about meeting your soul mate when they’re still an alcoholic because you couldn’t wait a few years for them to get their act together and had to go after them right _now_. But that’s the thing!” And he threw his hands up in the air, with the most frustrated look on his face. “That’s exactly what these companies are trying to make you fucking do! Billions go into the blood and locating industry Michael, making sure everybody’s gets circulated around everybody else, making sure it circulates close enough to your soul mate’s to trigger the mark. It’s big money because we’ve fucking _normalized_ this idea of a happy ever after with a person you’ve never met. And it’s only a little less money that goes into couple therapy after because you know what? Same people. Two different sides of the coin.”  
  
“Fucking Christ.”  
  
“After you realize that, it’s hard not to be a bit sour over the fact they’re essentially making money off your suffering.” Geoff said. “If I’d had the chance to keep the names to myself, find out the way you’re supposed to maybe I’d have a different opinion on this whole thing. But my parents made sure my blood was in the system before I’d even left the hospital… Kind of leaves me unable to even begin to like what these things stand for.” He shook his head, his somber expression easily a little as Michael leaned into him. “When I first started wearing cuffs, my parents weren’t really sure how to react. Still aren’t sure, actually. My dad only retired a few years ago and still thinks the industry is God’s gift to mankind so he’s still trying to wrap his head around the idea that I don’t think these marks aren’t the best idea in the world. But their reactions kind of just solidified my opinions… Yeah.”  
  
The silence that followed was a strange mix of comforting and introspective, Michael tracing Geoff’s knuckles with the pads of his fingers. Both their breakfasts lay to one side forgotten and cold now, abandoned for the warmth of a touch that lingered much longer than a hot meal. It wasn’t long until Michael leaned up to brush their lips together, a tactile affirmation of Geoff’s words.  
  
“So this shit is even more fucked up than I thought it was?” Michael said. He could feel Geoff smile against his lips.  
  
“Fucked up as dicks, dude.” He replied, and Michael delighted in the glint reappearing in Geoff’s eyes.  
  
“Just as I suspected.” Another press of lips. “Thank you.”  
  
“No worries.” Geoff replied, “It’s nice to talk about it. I mean, it’s not like you don’t already know _really_ but still.”  
  
“Doesn’t hurt to hear again.” Michael said. And as they lapsed into another comfortable silence, Michael’s eyes fluttering against Geoff’s neck and fingers playing with the thinning ends of his bandanna cuffs, he once again remembered why he liked this, loved him so much.  
  
-x-  
  
“Gavin, don’t fucking throw soap you shit head!”

“Its not just _soap_ you minge.” Gavin shot back, foam scooped up in the palms of his hands. “They’re bubbles and you’re no fun.”  
  
“Damn right I’m not.” Michael said, drying another pot before putting it to the side. “We’re supposed to be doing the dishes, not fighting like three year olds.”  
  
“But _Michael-_ “  
  
“Ladies, please.” Geoff hollered from the couch, laughing. “Gavin, finish the dishes and you can pelt Michael with all the _bubbles_ you like. Michael, get the stick out of your ass or I’ll do it myself.”  
  
“Kinky.” Ryan murmured from beside Michael, taking the now dry pot to the cupboard. He got a swift elbow in the ribs for that, the redhead scowling angrily despite the smile twitching at the ends of his lip. “Hey, hey take it easy Michael! We’re all friends here!”  
  
“WAFFLE-O, remember?” Ray chipped up from the dining room table, washcloth in hand. His hair still stuck to his forehead  a bit from his shower not too long ago, the dark brown practically black now.  
  
“I thought we were over that.” Jack accused, ripping off plastic wrap for the food.  
  
“We are.” Ray replied. "I'm bringing it back for irony's sake. And no Gavin, this is not the time to bring back anything else, I can see you."  
  
“But _Ray-“_  
  
“Shut the fuck up Gavin, you sound like you’re twelve.” Michael snapped, rolling his eyes as he dried the last glass in front of him. “Hurry up and finish your dishes, I actually want to go shower before you use up all the hot water.”  
  
“Don’t get all mingin’ on my ass.” Gavin replied, huffing as he started cleaning one of the remaining cooking dishes, scrubbing at the cheese caked to the sides.  
  
“I will if you carry on huffing like this.”  
  
“What’s gotten stuck up your ass? Ryan asked, raising an eyebrow at one of his boyfriends. Michael only sighed, rubbing his forehead.  
  
“Just been a long day, s’all.” He admitted, shaking his head. “Sorry for snapping, I feel like I’m going to fall asleep on my feet.” He felt Ryan’s comforting hand on his back, causing Michael to look up again.  
  
“Go take a shower then. I’ve got you covered here.”  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Positive, you’re making me feel tired just looking at you like this. Go take a load off.”

“Thanks.” Michael said, flashing his boyfriend a sleepy smile.

“Welcome, now go before I personally fall asleep in the sink.”  
  
Michael made his way out after that, feet practically dragging behind him. He could hear Ray making a quip about how it was going to be a miracle if he made it up the stairs, but quite frankly he didn’t care about that right now. He gripped the hand bar heavily as he walked up the stairs, grabbing a change of clothes from their room before walking into their bathroom.  
  
The room was considerably bigger than the average bathroom – ridiculous for the average couple but perfect for their needs and Michael stripped out of his clothes thankfully as the water hissed into life. He fell into the motions of cleaning like the well-rehearsed habit it was, clean shaving, soap in hand, scrubbing until he could feel the last of the day’s grime roll off him. By the time he’d caught himself staring aimlessly at the wall for the third time though he knew that if he didn’t get out of the shower he was probably going to collapse at the bottom of it.  
  
It all happened so quickly.  
  
One minute he was about to walk out back into the bedroom, but all it took was a slippery patch of ground and a misguided step. Suddenly the ground was rushing up to meet him, hand scrambling for the door handle but his bandanna hooking instead and the fabric was so weak and that’s all it took for it to rip to ribbons around his wrist. But Michael didn’t notice that because his head cracked against the ground and his body tumbled rag doll like after as he slumped to the floor, vision blurring and suddenly everything was bright, too bright.  
  
He could feel the ground shaking before the door opened, and he whimpered pathetically as the figure looked at him. His vision was blurry and frankly he was too far gone to even begin to guess who it had been – but they left as quickly as they came, feet stumbling back before retreating once more. To get the others? He hoped so.  
  
The next thing he knew familiar hands were shaking him awake, steeled blue eyes looking into his own.  
  
“…Michael. _Michael._ Can you hear me?”

“Yeah.” The red hear replied, groaning. “What happened- fuck I think I’m going to be sick.”  
  
“It’s okay babe, I’ve got you.” Ryan replied. “You’ve got a concussion, okay? Keep focused, the last thing we want right now is you slipping off into Neverland or Fuckyourselfover-land or whatever you want to call it.” Michael nodded slightly, grimacing because wow, he _really_ shouldn’t have done that because his head was practically pounding now and god if he didn’t get to the toilet right now he was going to up chuck all over Ryan, and while he was into some kinky shit Michael was pretty sure that was one thing he was definitely not into.  
  
It only took a moment after Ryan placed him down beside the toilet for Michael to practically throw up his innards, wrenching pathetically even after he’d emptied his stomach well and truly. One hand rubbing his back became two and he looked up with watering eyes to see Ryan and Ray both standing behind him with concerned expressions on his face. Or at least, he was pretty sure they were concerned – he was blind enough without his glasses and this was starting to feel like he was looking at everything through murky water… That thought was also not helping with his nausea and with another whine he wrenched again into the bowl, not sure whether the tears on his face were from the pounding in his skull or the taste of bile in his throat. Behind him, he could hear Ryan talking to Ray in a low voice – while he was slowly coming back to himself he wasn’t back enough to hear more than something about telling the others he needed to be awake for a while. The toilet bowl was still hazy.  
  
“Can you stand?” Michael shook his head, less this time as to not enrage his headache.  
  
“Do you still feel like you’re going to throw up?” Michael thought about that for a bit longer than he would normally, the gears in his head clicking over so slowly, before shaking his head again. Once more he felt himself pulled into Ryan’s arms, his head lulling against his boyfriend’s chest as they started the slow walk back down to the living room. Absentmindedly, Michael once again remembered just how strong Ryan was – he was hardly the lanky fuck that Gavin was but Ryan could still carry Michael easily and he was more than a little bit thankful for that right now. Ryan picked up his dangling arm, fingers brushing over his wrist as Ryan placed it back on his chest.  
  
He knew the sofa was comfortable, but it wasn’t until Ryan placed him down on it that Michael realized why Ryan could so easily sleep on it. The cushions were worn, but not lumpy and he could feel his body sink into them as Ryan settled Michael’s feet into his laps. God, it wouldn’t take much at all to just close his eyes right now and just get a few winks…  
  
“ _Michael.”  
  
_ His eyes blearily blinked awake, and he made a noise of disapproval because he was so _tired._  
  
“Yes, I know babe. You can’t sleep for a bit though, I need to make sure you don’t start slipping into a coma or something equally horrid.” Ryan said. “I don’t want to drive you out right now, but I will if you’re going to start forgetting everything you hold near and dear to you… What’s your name?”  
  
“Michael, you fuck.” He replied, huffing into Ryan’s lap. “You’re my boyfriend, everybody else is my boyfriend as well and Gavin’s a fucking lunatic.”  
  
“Never change.” Ryan said, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth as he reached up and lightly ruffled Michael’s hair. The fact that didn’t immediately set him off whimpering was another good sign, and it didn’t take much more time to pass before Ryan caved.  
  
“Sleep if you want to, I’ll keep an eye on you.”  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Positive.” Michael nodded, smiling a little before pulling his hand up from where it was dangling off the couch. He paused halfway through though, eyes narrowing at his wrist as he tried to make sense of the only plane of it he could see at the moment.  
  
 _Pattillo             James Ryan H_  
  
“Your name’s on my wrist…” He mumbled, and a part of him was scream, a part of him was having a fucking conniption over the fact that _his boyfriend’s name was on his wrist that shouldn’t be there that_ **shouldn’t be there at all.** But he was already half gone into dreamland and the concussion wasn’t exactly letting him has his way, and he only just heard Ryan’s reply as he slipped into a deep sleep.  
  
“I know.”

 


End file.
